


You Can't Hurry Love

by kittenCorrosion



Series: Mileven Week  2016 [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Trigger warning: homophobic slurs, and she beats the shit out of troy which is satisfying as always haha, it's fluff, it's set around valentine's day so get ready for feelings, there's some general slice-of-life fun as well, this is right after she comes back, troy sucks ugh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 14:45:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8628460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenCorrosion/pseuds/kittenCorrosion
Summary: El is back and adjusting to a new life without fear. But when Mike comes home bruised and beat, she decides it might be time to make someone else a little afraid. Mileven Week Day 3 (Nov 30th)"Eleven protecting Mike"





	

**Author's Note:**

> first of all, i gotta thank cole for reading through all six thousand words and then making me add more because it is definitely way better now haha.
> 
> secondly, if you guys are liking my stuff at all, i would really love kudos and comments. they kind of reassure me that i don't suck, and if i do suck it's okay i'll just deal with it. but if not, please, you gotta let me know heh
> 
> lastly, this follows the last story, "A New Promise", so if you haven't read it might help to make this one a little less... out of nowhere

El didn’t remember much about the night she returned, or even how she got back.

After Mike’s mom had come down the stairs, it was all sort of a blur. El had faded in and out of consciousness, but she remembered the warm water in the bathtub and the soft fleece pajamas, being tucked into Mike’s bed with a pile of blankets, the flustered doctor being rushed in, followed closely by Hopper, her blood pressure and vitals being taken, the prick as the IV was administered, a bunch of adults talking out in the hallway in hushed tones, saying things like “dehydration”, “nearly frozen”, and “it’s a miracle she’s even conscious”. But mostly she remembered Mike.

He hadn’t left her side that night, with the exception of the bath, and slept on the floor, next to the bed, one hand reaching up to tangle with hers that she dangled over the side. His mom, Karen, El soon learned, allowed him to stay home from school the next day but warned him that, “if I catch you skipping after this just so you can stay home with her, you’ll be grounded for a year”. They’d spent that next day turning the couch in the basement into a giant fort that she could stay in until the adults figured out exactly what to do with her. Mike sat inside of it with her, telling her everything that had happened in the months she’d be gone.

He was right in the middle of explaining how he and Lucas had built a ramp for sledding when she reached her hand out, fingers gently skittering across his freckled cheek, tracing the fading yellow-brown bruise that covered his cheekbone. She hadn’t noticed it before and she frowned, also taking in the small scab that puckered the corner of his mouth where his lip had been split.

“Mike.” Her voice was soft but understanding. “Hurt?”

He had hoped she wouldn’t notice, but as her eyes filled with concerned he let out a heavy sigh, knowing better than to try and lie.

“It… it was Troy again. After you… left… he sort of started beating us more.” Mike tried to shrug it off, cracking a smile. “I mean, who knew he could still punch with one arm in a cast?”

El’s face remained passive, but her eyes were stony. She simply nodded.

“Mouthbreather,” she said dismissively, taking her hand off his face and resting it on his hand instead. He reflexively grasped it and nodded in agreement, wanting to change the subject.

“A total wastoid. So anyways, Dustin and Will came down the hill and their sled went like ten feet in the air….” He continued with his story, and El was happy to let him. But inside she felt a low-burning anger churning in the bottom of her stomach. If she ever saw Troy she was going to give him something worse than a broken arm.

 

&&

 

The next week passed slowly but steadily. El spent her days at the Wheeler’s, under Karen’s watchful eye. For the most part she was just sleeping, her body building itself back up, nestled in her fort or Mike’s bed. She loved her fort, but the bed smelled like Mike and sometimes if she was still sleeping when he got home from school he would sit at the end and work on homework and wait for her to wake up. That was always nice, waking up and seeing him first thing.

Her favorite was when he would sneak down to the basement, usually after she had nightmares and she whispered his name through the SuperCom, voice full of fear. He would crawl into the fort quietly, laying next to her and putting his arms around her, holding her tight and murmuring quiet reassurances. Her heart would squeeze and her body would relax and before she knew it she would be asleep. She had yet to find a place that felt safer.

But last night had been peaceful and he had overslept, having to head to school before he could come down with the usual plate of Eggos and a soft “morning, El”. She’d woken up later than usual too, the sun streaming through the windows.

Today she felt.... different, her body finally felt less like it was dead weight that was attached to her mind and more like it was her own again. She almost leaped off the couch, giddy, feeling like she wanted to run a mile. Heading up the stairs, she followed the sounds of silverware clinking and padded quietly into the kitchen. Karen was there, setting a plate of eggs and cut up Eggo in front Holly, but she turned when she heard El walk in. The older woman smiled, face warm, noticing that her new charge seemed less sluggish today.

“Hey, sweetie. Did you sleep well?”

El nodded, eyeing the Eggo. Her stomach let out a loud growl. For the first time in days she was _starving._ Karen smirked knowingly and handed Holly a plastic spoon to feed herself with, heading over to the toaster to pop in some more waffles. With well-practiced precision she cracked some more eggs into the hot pan on the stove, managing to cook them while pausing to feed her daughter and pull the bland Eggos from the toaster. She glanced at El, then back the waffles.

“Did you want any syrup or jelly? Maybe some peanut butter?”

“Peanut… butter?”

Karen managed to hide the surprise on her face. It had taken her aback at how much El didn’t know when it came to everyday things. She’d grown used to the constant questionings of “hair conditioner?”, “garden?”, “what is slippers?”, “what are spaghetti?” and most heartbreakingly, “why do you call me ‘sweetie’?”. With motherly patience she answered everything, trying to help the quiet girl understand this new world.

“It’s when they take peanuts and they smash them up until they’re like butter. I think you’ll like it.” She got a little bit on a spoon and handed the utensil to the curious girl. El cautiously sniffed the brown substance, then gave it a lick. Her eyes widened and she shoved the whole spoon into her mouth, savoring the nutty flavor. Karen smiled to herself and began to smooth some peanut butter onto the waffles, cutting them up into six pieces and drizzling them with syrup. El wolfed her breakfast down, barely believing anything could taste this good. Karen finished feeding Holly, setting the dishes in the sink, then turned around.

“Okay, girls, today I have to head to the grocery store for a lamb roast, and then the drugstore,” she pointed at Holly, smiling and booping her daughter on the nose playfully, “you’re coming with me, little miss. El?”

El looked up at her and blinked, face neutral, expecting to be asked if she would be okay alone for a bit.

“Do you want come too? You seem like you feel a lot better today.”

“Y-Yes. Please!”

 

&&

 

Though confident at first, after entering the grocery store El grew nervous. She kept one hand on the cart, letting herself be guided through the aisles, watching and observing everything around her. Karen would check her list now and then, before throwing the needed items into the cart and moving on. _Plop!_ Three bags of rice. _Thunk!_ Some cans of mushroom soup. _Thud!_ The lamb roast. There were several other smaller things, as well as a generous amount of Eggos, and then they were headed back to the front towards the cashier.

They passed a picked over, brightly colored display, and it caught El’s eye. The table was covered in heart-shaped things. Boxes of chocolates, stuffed animals, semi-wilted roses (half price!) and dozens upon dozens of cards. She gently tugged on Karen’s coat.

“What’s that?”

Karen glanced at the pitiful display.

“That's for Valentine’s Day. Which is tomorrow,” she pointed to the lamb roast, “that's what the roast is for. It's Ted’s favorite.”

El furrowed her brow, completely unfamiliar with the word.

“Balen… Balentime’s?”

“Val-en-tine’s. Vvvv.” Karen corrected gently. She paused and picked up one of the less wilted roses, a pink one, and twirled it. “It's a special day when you celebrate the one you love… or like. You do something nice for them to show them that you appreciate them, like how I make Ted his favorite food.” She handed the rose to El, whose face lit up with wonder. “Or you can get them a special gift, like flowers or chocolate. Then you ask them to be your Valentine. It's all very romantic.”

El nodded, eyes still fixated on the rose in her hands. Karen took her silence as a sign that she understood and they continued on to the register, checking out and heading out to the car.

 

&&

 

The final bell had just finished ringing and Mike fiddled with his locker combination, opening the door and depositing his books inside with a heavy sigh. It had been a longass day. He’d been in trouble more times today than he liked to admit, unable to keep his mind on his classes, instead gazing out the window and wondering what El was up to at home. He cringed as he remembered telling his math teacher that the square root of sixteen was eight. It hadn’t even been a hard question, but he’d been having problems focusing all week and that wasn’t even the worst offense. With an annoyed grumble he tossed his pre-algebra book into his backpack and listened to Dustin and Lucas squabble.

“You haven’t even read The Silmarillion yet, Lucas. You are not allowed to say that The Hobbit is better.”

“I’m not saying it’s better, I’m saying it’s more interesting.”

“How are the the Valar not interesting?! They literally created Middle Earth and elves and _men_.” Dustin was on a roll now, “The Hobbit literally wouldn’t even exist without them and you’re trying to tell me that it’s a better sto-”

“I didn’t say it was  _better_ I said it was more interesting!” Lucas cut him off.

The two bickered, as usual, while Will watched and listened, eyes bouncing between his friends with each verbal jab. Mike just rolled his eyes and shut his locker with a  _bang_ trying to shoo them towards the exit.

“Can you guys figure this out later?” He almost snapped. He wasn’t really mad at them, but he wanted to get home and they were always slower when they were arguing. Sometimes if they left early enough they could avoid Troy and James.

But he couldn’t help adding in a quick, “Besides the Lord of the Rings trilogy is the best anyways… if you could finish it.”

The outraged protests followed him out of the school and he grinned at his friends as they headed towards the bike rack.

“Hey, fairyboys, you going home to play with your dolls?”

Mike tensed at the taunt that came from behind them. Dustin bristled, about to turn around and yell back “they're action figures!”, but Mike pulled on his arm, shaking his head. “It's not worth it.”

“Hey! HEY! I'm talking to you queers!”

The shove from behind almost knocked him to the ground, but Lucas caught his shoulder and he regained his footing. With a defeated sigh, the four boys turned around to face Troy and his cronies. His arm was still in a cast, and Mike couldn’t help but smirk when he saw it, getting some satisfaction from the fact that the bully hadn’t won every fight.

 _Crack!_ The smirk was literally punched right off his face. He staggered backward, reeling, as Troy’s mocking laughter rang through the air. Mike reached up, wincing as he realized that his scabbed lip had been reopened, blood oozing out and down his chin. He looked back at Troy and glared, but didn’t say anything, not wanting to make it worse. Will looked over at him, eyes wide with concern while Lucas and Dustin crowded in front of him, trying to get between their friend and the bullies. Troy always had it out for Mike the worst.

“Where’s your girlfriend now, Wheeler?” James taunted.

Troy cackled. “Was she even a girl? Maybe you put a boy in a dress. Wouldn’t want everyone to know you’re a fag.” The taunts were usually easy to ignore, but as soon as Troy brought El into it, all four boys stiffened.

“Y-you don’t even know what you’re talking about, Troy,” Dustin spat back, “if you keep messing with Mike, she’ll… she’ll find you and she’ll kill you!”

The mocking laughter only grew louder. Troy walked over to Dustin casually and circled around him, still laughing. Without warning, he kicked Dustin’s knees out from under him, causing him to fall to the ground with a solid _thud_.

“Did you say something, Toothless? I couldn’t understand your lsssppptthhhhh.”

Before anyone could react, there was a shout from the front of the school building. An angry looking teacher was marching over, and in an instant the bullies had scattered. Lucas helped pull Dustin upright and they all ran for the bike rack, hopping onto their bikes and taking off as quickly as possible. Mike looked over his shoulder at the teacher, who stood at the edge of the parking lot, scowling, hands on her hips. They all sighed in relief, knowing the only thing worse than getting beaten up by Troy was getting in trouble for fighting.

Wiping his bloody lip on his sleeve, he rode on in silence, trying to think of a reasonable lie to tell his mother.

 

&&

 

After getting home from the store, El went up to Mike’s room to take a nap. She still felt better, but her adventure had definitely tired her out, and she knew she needed to rest. She still clutched the wilty pink rose in her hand, ruminating on the idea of Valentine’s day.

She curled up on the bed, snuggling a sweatshirt she had found on the floor. Karen had said that you were supposed to do something special for your Valentine, but El was still trying to figure out if she even had a Valentine. She had Mike, she knew that they had kissed and that he was her favorite, but she still wasn’t sure if that meant he was her “special someone”. Rolling over and hugging the sweatshirt tighter, she closed her eyes and fell asleep, deciding she would ask him when he got home.

A couple hours later she awoke to the familiar feel of someone scooting onto the bed. Fluttering her eyes open, she rolled to face him, sitting up slightly. She opened her mouth to ask the question on her mind, but frowned instead. Mike sat, leaning against the wooden bed frame, a textbook in his lap, holding a frozen bag of peas to his face. Looking up at her, he gave her weak smile, wincing as the motion tugged at his torn lip. A fresh blue-black bruise was blooming under his left eye. Her stomach bubbled with rage and she sat up, crawling forward, sitting in front of him and moving the bag out of the way to survey the damage.

“Mike,” she said, voice soft, and he felt shame twist his gut, “Troy hurt you again?”

He nodded, not able to find words to explain what happened, not wanting to explain, and put the peas back onto his wounds, looking down at the textbook. El sat back on her heels, not really wanting to make him talk about it, but wanting to know exactly what that rude, mouth-breathing,  _bad_ kid had done. He glanced back at her, then noticed something, his brow furrowing.

“Are you… were you cuddling my shirt?”

She looked down at the blue clothing still clutched in her hands, then back to him, shrugging.

“I didn’t have you. This was next best.”

The tips of his ears and his cheeks flushed a bit, and he thought " _could she get any more adorable"_ , but she didn’t notice, remembering instead the question she’d been waiting to ask.

“Mike, what is a Val-en-tine?” She made sure to sound the word out carefully. He almost dropped his peas, confused and surprised.

“Uh, it’s, uh, um, well…. Where did you hear about that?” He stumbled over his words, feeling slightly embarrassed at being caught off-guard. It was just another one of her innocent questions, he didn’t need to gape like a fish. El shrugged, still not able to read his flustered state.

“At the store. Karen said it was ‘romantic’.”

“Okay, well, um, a Valentine is someone that you really like.” Her face still looked puzzled, so he continued, trying his best to explain, “Like… my mom and dad. Or Nancy and Steve… and Jonathan.” He rolled his eyes, not wanting to delve into that whole mess, “or even Will’s mom and the Chief. They all like or love each other, so they do something special. Which is romantic... I think.”

His unsureness made her feel a little better and she accepted the explanation.

“So a Valentine is good?”

“Uh, yeah. If you can get one, I’m sure it’s nice…” His voice trailed off, not wanting to confess that he’d never had one before. He glanced at her quickly and his mouth grew dry.

_Would she want to—_

He cut the thought off abruptly. Just because she came to him for comfort didn’t mean she liked him…. Did it? After all, he’d been the first one to ever show her anything resembling kindness, it’s not like it would be a stretch for her to only be attached to him because of that. For a moment he put how he felt about her at the back of his mind and thought about how she might feel about him. He’d just assumed she’d understood what that kiss in the cafeteria had meant, but if she couldn’t piece together what a Valentine was, maybe she had no idea how he felt about her. _"She didn’t even know what a friend was...."_ he reminded himself. The last thing he wanted was to force his feelings on her, especially after everything she’d been through in the past few months.

El had been watching him as he battled himself, and while she was no mind-reader, she knew that something wasn’t right, his emotions flashing across his face. Then his jaw set, his face grew stony, and she sensed he had come to some conclusion. It wasn’t a good one.

Wanting to comfort him, she reached forward, snagging the textbook out of his lap, and then turned herself around and flopped into his lap instead. She didn’t know what was wrong (she hoped it wasn’t her fault), but snuggling always seemed to cheer Mike right up. She liked it too, of course, but sometimes she thought he liked it even more.

Mike inhaled sharply at this development, feeling his new resolve already breaking a bit as she leaned her head back against his chest and looked up at him.

“Okay, Mike?”

“Uh, yeah, um…”

 _"Oh to Hell with it,"_ he thought, heart thudding as he looked down into her bright brown eyes, _"if she wants to cuddle just to cuddle, I’m not going to be the one to say no."_

He compromised with himself, deciding that from now he wouldn’t initiate, only accepting and returning what she gave him. It would better, for both of them, he tried to convince himself.

El felt Mike relax and smiled to herself. Her plan had worked.

 

&&

 

Later that evening, El was in the shower, and Mike was alone in his room, finishing up his algebra homework. His mom came in, carrying a laundry basket, but walked and stood by him instead of just dropping off his clothes like usual.

“So what are you doing for El tomorrow?”

Mike’s pencil lead snapped in half.

“Wh… what?”

Karen fought the urge to roll her eyes at her son.

“Are you getting her any flowers? A teddy bear? Anything?”

He turned tomato red, staring at her in disbelief. He stuttered, not even sure where to start.

“Mom, no, I… she… we aren’t… why would I do that?”

“Because that girl all but waits at the door for you to come home,” she seemed almost exasperated now, “I can’t walk into a room without finding the two of you cuddling like it’s the end of the world, and don’t even get me started on the way you react when you see her...”

Mike threw his head back in embarrassment, covering his face with his hands and groaned.

“Mom, please, don’t. I do not want to talk about this right now.”

“Well,” she harrumphed, but reached into the laundry basket, pulling out a crisp ten dollar bill and leaned over to tuck into the little pocket on the front of his striped shirt, “at least take her to see a movie.”

Without another word she turned and left the room.

Mike pulled the ten out of his pocket and stared down at the face of Alexander Hamilton, his own face still hot from the embarrassment of that whole scene. There was no way this was a good idea… was it? But, well, he didn’t want to waste the money, and friends went and saw movies all the time… right?

He ran downstairs to grab the paper and check show times.

 

&&

 

Karen Wheeler didn’t know a lot of things about her son, but she knew for a fact that her offer would be taken up the next day and that El needed a new outfit. It took a bit of finagling, but she’d managed to find one of Nancy’s older lacey, white shirts, some soft pink leggings, and then snuck out to purchase the final piece. A brick-red, corduroy overall skirt, the fabric soft and causally appropriate for the holiday.

Self-satisfied, she headed down to basement to wake up El, not at all surprised to find her son once again cuddled up in the couch-fort with the small girl, faces content in their sleep, his arm slung over her waist, her face buried in his chest.

“Good morning,” she said loudly, and watched, amused, as the two shot up out of bed and scrambled away from each other, faces guilty. El looked less guilty and more just unsure, but Mike could have cooked eggs on his face based on the color he was turning.

“M-morning,” he coughed. His eyes darted between the two of them, then he bolted up the stairs.

With a sigh, Karen rolled her eyes and turned back to El, pulling the outfit out from behind her, watching the girl’s face light up.

“For me?”

Karen nodded, handing the clothing over to her and then heading over to the washing machine to throw in another load while El changed. When she turned back around, she was as pleased with how it looked, and congratulated herself on her excellent taste. El twirled a few times, letting the skirt flare out around her, the lace on the shirt softening her features. She beamed up at the woman in front of her, eyes pouring gratitude.

“Thank you.”

“You look great, sweetie.” She finished her load of laundry and grabbed the basket. “Let’s go get some breakfast, alright?”

They headed up the stairs and Karen would have given up her curling iron for a week if she could have had a camera to capture the look on her son’s face when he glanced up from the TV and saw El. With a satisfied smile she escaped to the kitchen, leaving the kids with their Saturday morning cartoons.

Mike gulped as El flounced over to him, trying to keep his face passive and blush-free. She kneeled down on the carpet next to him, eyes on the TV where He-Man was yelling angrily and he tried to focus back on the cartoon but couldn’t help glancing at her from the corner of his eye. Gathering his nerve he finally managed to blurt out,

“El, didyouwannagoseemovie… with me?”

She turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised, her face practically saying “what the hell did you just say?”.

“What?”

He swallowed and tried again.

“Did… did you want to see a movie with me? The theater is re-showing Indiana Jones and I thought you might like…” He trailed off as she began nodding, her soft smile quirking the edge of her mouth.

“Yes!” She said enthusiastically.

Mike could barely keep himself from dancing, his heart pounding, his shoulders almost shaking with excitement. _"SHE SAID YES,"_ he thought, all but screaming at himself. But suddenly he cringed at his own eagerness, trying to remember what he had told himself about not forcing anything. _"Friends totally go see movies all the time… it’s cool."_ He glanced at her, trying to hide the huge smile on his face, and noticed she seemed confused. She opened her mouth, then shut it, then finally forced herself to ask.

“Um, what’s a theater?” Her embarrassment was palpable and he did his best to explain without making her feel dumb.

“Oh, it’s this building that has screens…” he pointed at the TV, “but like huge, like the size of the wall, and you sit in these crappy seats and eat popcorn and you get to watch movies that aren’t on video yet.” He grinned encouragingly and she nodded, not knowing what exactly popcorn was but deciding she would find out when they got there.

“When?” She asked.

He looked down at his watch. It was almost ten o’clock and the matinee started at eleven thirty, meaning they had enough time to eat brunch and for Mike to shower. He looked down at his grubby Star Wars pajama pants and then back at El in all of her Valentine’s Day glory.

“An hour and a half…” He jumped up, “I’m gonna go shower really quick, okay?”

Running back upstairs, El heard the water turn on. Karen came in with two plates of eggs, hashbrowns and Eggos. Saturdays were the only days they were allowed to eat in the living room, El had learned, and she liked munching on her waffles and watching He-Man and Transformers. Before she knew it, the grandfather clock was striking eleven, and El realized Mike still hadn’t reappeared.

Heading into the kitchen to put her dirty dishes in the sink, another habit she’d quickly learned, she went for the stairs, heading up to Mike’s room, wondering if something was wrong. She tapped her fingertips on the door gently “knocking” like she had been taught.

“YEAH?!”

El frowned at his response, not expecting it to be so harsh.

“Mike?”

The door opened, and Mike stood in front of her looking disheveled, hair still damp from the shower, but still in his pajamas. His room looked like a tornado had hit, with approximately every single item of clean clothing appearing to have been thrown out of the dresser and in a random direction. She looked up at a shirt that had somehow ended up on the ceiling fan blade, then back at Mike.

“Okay...?”

He shook his head with a groan and confessed.

“I… I don’t know what to wear.”

“Clothes?” She suggested innocently, a smile playing at her lips. He couldn’t help but snort out a laugh.

“Well yeah, but like…” He glanced at her as she pushed past him and into the room, surveying the damage, “you just look so… nice. I don’t want to look...” he searched for a word to describe his predicament and failed, “...bad.”

El didn’t think he could look bad, but she wasn’t sure if telling him that would help. Instead she looked around the room. Spotting his red and navy striped polo, the one he’d worn when he had stayed home from school and showed her the house back in November, she walked over to it. It appeared to be clean, so she pulled it off the chair it had landed on and held it out to him. He took it.

“I like this one.”

She suggested, then she went over to the bed, finding a pair of jeans shoved halfway underneath, and pulled them out, nodding in approval and handing them to him as well. “Good?” She pointed at his alarm clock which read 11:04 in big red letters. “Movie, it’s starting soon.”

Startling at the realization, he grabbed the clothes she’d picked out, ready to change, but then glanced back at her, waiting. She smiled at him happily, glad to have helped. Mike cleared his throat.

“Um, El, I need to change so can you…” he paused, “Privacy. Remember?”

This time it was her face that flushed, a rare occurrence, and she scampered from the room. Right. Privacy. That was still one of the things she had to remember. She headed back downstairs to wait, and in moments Mike followed, grabbing his heavy tan jacket. El had one of Nancy’s winter coats, it was dark purple with green buttons and zippers.

“Mom!” Mike called in the direction of the kitchen, “We’re going to the movie now!”

“Have a good time!” Came the reply, and the two kids headed out of the house into the chilly sunshine, grabbing Mike’s bike from the garage and hopping on. El’s arms were warm around Mike’s waist as she jumped on the back, and they were on their way. It was the first time they’d ridden on his bike since she’d come back, and she couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder nervously, half expecting to see white vans with blue writing barreling after them.

But there weren’t any, and before she knew it they were pulling up to the theater. Mike locked his bike on the bike rack and went up to buy tickets, sending El inside, out of the cold, to get in line for popcorn.

“Well if it isn’t Frogface Wheeler. You buying me a movie ticket?”

Mike froze in fear and groaned internally, praying to every deity he could think of to not let this happen, not right now. He turned around slowly, heart pounding in his ears, to face Troy and his two generic, beefy friends. The bully looked more than happy to see him, enjoying any opportunity that would allow him to pound Mike into the ground. He swaggered up to him, a smile on his face.

“You here with one of your boyfriends, Frogface?”

“Go away, Troy,” Mike said, trying to keep his voice even, “I don’t have time for you today.”

Pocketing the tickets, he started for the doors, shoulders tense. He wasn’t surprised when a rough hand grabbed him, pulling him away from the doors and shoving him, dragging him around the corner of the theater and into the alley. Mike knew he was outnumbered, there was no point in trying to escape his inevitable beating. He was just glad El was safely inside, where she wouldn’t have to watch this. Or get involved with this.

“Gimme the tickets, Wheeler.”

He shook his head and braced himself for the first punch. It hit him square in the ribs and knocked the breath of out of him, his legs staggering to keep him upright as he gasped, trying to get oxygen back into his body.

“The tickets. Now.”

He refused again, and the second punch was in the kidneys. Mike was almost positive something had ruptured. This time he fell back against the wall, the rough brick cold against his back. He gritted his teeth, waiting for the next hit, eyes shut, hands clenched.

It never came.

Opening his eyes, he watched as Troy, frozen in place with his fist still in the air, was thrown across the alley into the opposite wall so hard the air was knocked out of him. At the end of alley stood El. Her face was stormy, chin tilted down, the familiar glare that happened when she used her powers sending the other two goons running in fear. She walked slowly towards them, eyes fixated on the punk who dared to hurt Mike.

“El,” he could barely gasp her name, lungs still recuperating from the beating. She glanced at him, eye softening for a split second, but then turned her back on him, focusing on Troy. _How dare he, how_ dare _he hurt Mike._ Her rage pounded in her temples, the fury almost blinding her as she took in his sniveling features and frightened face. She remembered the word Mike had used when Papa had tried to take her back, had held her in his arms and tried to tell her that he would make everything okay, the lies spilling from his mouth so easily.

_“Bastard!”_

Her voice cracked through the air like a whip. Walking towards Troy slowly and deliberately, she spoke again, carefully enunciating each word.

“You. Don’t. Touch. Him.”

The wet spot that bloomed on his crotch wasn’t caused by her powers this time, and Troy’s eyes grew wider and wider the closer she came. Blood was flowing from her nose, bright red against her pale skin. With a twitch of her brow one of the fingers on his not-casted arm snapped backward, a sickening  _pop!_ echoing through the alley. Troy howled in pain, tears forming in his eyes. He remembered what happened last time, what she was capable of, and he was too afraid to even beg.

“El!” A gentle hand landed on her shoulder as Mike reached out, trying to get her to face him, trying to move her focus. With a soft exhale she snapped another of Troy’s fingers, but turned to face Mike, her eyes practically black with anger. He almost took a step back, her rage frightening, but instead reached down to grasp her hand in his, squeezing. Sure, he hated Troy with his entire being, but the last thing he wanted was for her to get in trouble over this, not when she’d just come back.

“Please, El. He’s not… It’s not worth it.”

Her eyes softened, and she sighed, keeping a mental hold on Troy, but relaxing visibly, some of the fury fading.

“You’re worth it,” she said, an unspoken emotion pulsating from her voice.

Mike didn’t know what to say to that, but he knew she could easily kill Troy if she wanted, and more than anything he wanted to forget about the bully and just go watch the movie with her. Unsure of what else to do, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, his hand squeezing hers more tightly. It was short, but sweet, and she relaxed completely, dropping Troy from her grip. He hit the ground with a pained grunt and took off running, clutching his hand and shaking, disappearing from view and leaving the two standing in the alley alone.

El exhaled, suddenly exhausted, and her legs buckled. Mike managed to catch her and guide her out of the alley and onto the bench in front of the theater, where they sat in silence for a moment while she regained her strength. He gently wiped her nose with his sleeve, heart thumping, still in shock at what had just happened.

“Thanks.”

He spoke first, quietly, and she glanced at him, letting herself smile despite her tired state.

“Broke his fingers. Now he can’t punch.”

Mike’s mouth dropped open. He hadn’t even thought of that, but she had, and not only had she scared the stupid mouthbreather away, but she physically made sure he wouldn’t bother anyone for awhile. He grinned at her suddenly, impressed.

“You’re amazing, El.” He almost laughed, and she smiled at him again. Suddenly she looked thoughtful.

“Was that special? What I did?” She swallowed, almost nervous, “For you?”

Nodding, he gave her an encouraging smile.

“Uh, yeah.”

“So that makes you my Valentine, right?” Her face brightened and she managed to string the words together. “You do something special. For Valentines.”

Mike blanched, trying to remember what he had told himself about forcing his feelings on her, and her face dimmed at this reaction, unsure, afraid she’d said the wrong thing.  _"Well, she said it first so…."_ He let the smile creep back onto his face.

“Yeah. I mean… if you want me to be.”

“Yes.” She replied solidly, encouraged again.

Gathering his own courage, he let himself blurt out what he had been thinking.

“Do you want to be my Valentine then? Since, uh, um…. If I’m yours.”

Her heart did a little dance in her chest and she beamed, reaching out to grasp his hand.

“Yes!”

There was a moment of silence while Mike justified himself (and tried to keep his heart from bursting out of his chest in excitement) and El congratulated herself on getting it right. They were happy to just sit there for that moment, letting the warmth between them grow. Then he glanced down at his watch and jumped up so quickly he almost fell over. It was eleven thirty-seven.

“The movie!” He reached into his coat pocket for the tickets and was shocked to find them not there. Scrabbling and digging through all the other pockets, he realized that they must have fallen out during the scuffle. He glanced over his shoulder at the alley, heart sinking.

“I… the tickets,” his voice was thick with misery, “I lost them.”

He expected her to be disappointed, but she just looked at him and shrugged. El liked movies, she’d watched several in the past few days, but she had been more excited to spend time with Mike than to see this one. She stood, reaching out for his hand.

“It’s okay,” her voice was quiet but sincere, and she tried to think of something that would cheer him up. “Home? Star Wars?”

Star Wars  _always_ cheered him up, she knew that. Seeing her apparent acceptance of the situation, he stopped internally berating himself and looked at her, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You… don’t mind?”

She shook her head.

“I like Star Wars.” It was the truth, she’d watched Return of the Jedi twice already.

Reaching out for his other hand she pulled him closer, tilting her head up and giving him a chaste kiss, pulling away slowly so she could watch his face turn pink. She smiled at him sweetly, pleased with herself.  

“And I like you.”

**Author's Note:**

> okay the next prompt was literally to pick an AU so i did and it's going to be ridiculous so i'm sorry if you take any of my writings seriously because this next one is borderline crackfic.


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